


Keeper

by al-the-remix (only_blue)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_blue/pseuds/al-the-remix
Summary: Sid had been shameless this year in more ways than one. He grew his hair out and stopped shaving regularly and played with a level of scrappiness that made Zhenya think Sid thought he had something to prove.He also hit on Zhenya openly and with abandon.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 174





	Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this annon prompt on tumblr:
> 
> _Sid got speared in the balls/jock last night and I CANNOT get the idea of tender Geno caring for him in their hotel rooms with shared adjoining doors after the annoying loss._
> 
>  _I am not a fanfic writer at all - do not have the skills but I can’t get it out of my head!!!! His poor nuts_ 🤣
> 
> **Also, this fic is set during the 2021 season with covid restrictions in place, technically the players are not supposed to be in each other's rooms without masks, but for the purpose of this fic I'm ignoring that one rule because masks aren't conducive to smooching~~

Zhenya was towelling off his hair when his phone lit up where it sat on the bathroom counter beside the sink. He slung the towel over his shoulders and wiped the condensation from his shower off the screen. There was one message, from the one person who was most likely to disturb Zhenya during his post-game cooldown. 

_Can you bring me more ice?_ The timestamp read _10:37_.

Sid’s message was punctuated with a :( that stared out from the screen at him piteously. Sid knew Zhenya was easily susceptible to his whims.

Zhenya replied with the ice emoji and the running man and nothing else, leaving Sid to put two and two together on his own. He pulled on a pair of joggers--the soft kind he wore for lounging, not the ones for fashion purposes--and a long-sleeve. 

Sid had been shameless this year in more ways than one. He grew his hair out and stopped shaving regularly and played with a level of scrappiness that made Zhenya think Sid thought he had something to prove.

He also hit on Zhenya openly and with abandon.

Zhenya didn’t know if it was the worldwide pandemic that had them all feeling as if time and opportunities were slipping through their fingers that had spurred on Sid’s “ _fuck it_ ” attitude. Or if it was the fact that the team had barely been able to make it past the first round of the playoffs the past three years that had Sid acting as if something feral was clawing at the inside of his chest.

Zhenya took the bucket of ice from inside the hotel room’s mini fridge and dumped it into a plastic shopping bag. 

There had only been one other time Zhenya had witnessed such a major attitude shift in Sid. It had been after his first concussion when Sid decided he no longer wanted to continue denying himself the small enjoyments in life or concerning himself with what others thought of him. 

It had been easy for Zhenya to pretend he didn’t know what it meant when Sid pressed his warm lips to Zhenya’s neck in the middle of a celly, tucking his face into that secluded pocket where Zhenya’s shoulder met his neck that was unequivocally Sid’s. Or when Zhenya lingered in the locker room until Sid was done with the media, it was only because Zhenya was trying to take on more responsibility. And when Sid’s eyes lingered on him in the showers, that had nothing to do with anything at all.

Another message pinged. Zhenya closed the freezer, tying a knot in the bag and checking his phone.

It was another message from Sid. 

_I think he tried to castrate me,_ the message said, and attached was a photo of Sid with a very flaccid ice pack pressed to his crotch.

Or apparently when Sid was getting Zhenya to ice his balls for him by manipulating his emotions.

Zhenya slipped his phone into one of his pants' many zipper pockets. Just because you were lounging didn’t mean you couldn’t be doing so in style.

He slipped on his slides. He liked the attention, he _always_ liked Sid’s attention. But this was different. As a hockey player, Zhenya didn’t often get the chance to play coy. He was walking the thin edge of a knife blade and the risk of a misstep filled him with a dangerous thrill.

What _would_ Sid do if Zhenya gave in to all of his stupid peacocking?

Zhenya entered Sid’s room through their adjoining doors.

Sid was slouched in a chair with his legs spread, his melted ice pack discarded on a wet towel on the floor. He had been looking at his phone when Zhenya walked in, but now he dropped it on the desk in favour of grinning at Zhenya in a way that made all the hair on Zhenya’s body stand on end. “Took you long enough,” Sid said.

Zhenya rolled his eyes. “Why you ask me to do, why don’t you ask trainer for new pack. I’m very busy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sid said, but didn’t finish his sentence, so Zhenya left him to retrieve a fresh towel from the bathroom.

When he came back out of the bathroom Sid was standing by the bed. Zhenya let the bag of ice dangle uselessly from his hand as he watched Sid shove his shorts down unceremoniously.

Zhenya braced himself to be abruptly confronted with Sid’s dick but it turned out he was, in fact, wearing underwear. Not that this was much better: the dark fabric of Sid’s briefs clung to the monstrous bulk of his thighs and neat swell of his package between his legs.

Zhenya swallowed to get rid of the dry patch that had bloomed at the back of his throat. Sid kept his hoodie on which was a small mercy. Zhenya didn’t know if the sensation ballooning in his chest was disappointment or relief. Most likely a confusing mixture of both. Everything he felt about Sid was complex and ingrained and needed about five asterisks to convey clearly to those uninitiated. 

It was almost worse when Sid lay back on the bed and rolled up the thin edge of his briefs to show Zhenya the livid bruise on the soft inside of his thigh.

Zhenya sank down on the edge of the mattress, Sid’s knee pressed warm against his hip. Zhenya ghosted his fingers over the mottled skin.

“I know, right?” Sid said, and let out a low whistle under his breath. “He almost got my bean bags.”

Zhenya shook his head. Sid was unbelievable. “You need better jock.”

Zhenya wrapped the bag of ice in the towel before pressing it to the inside of Sid’s thigh. Sid hissed at the cold anyways.

“Big baby,” Zhenya murmured, unable to strip his fondness from the words.

He let his eyes rest there, on the dark dusting of hair that covered Sid’s thigh, as he held the ice, which wasn’t much better. When Sid lay down, the muscles in his thighs went soft and relaxed in a way that was almost indecent, pooling out under Zhenya’s hand. He was intimately aware of how close his hand was to Sid’s dick.

As much as Zhenya didn’t like to admit it, they had been down this road before. During the 2015-2016 season, Zhenya had had a boyfriend. It had been great--it had been fine, no one on the team had cared and when he let Sid know he had reacted exactly the way Zhenya expected him to, clapping a hand to his shoulder and saying sincerely, _“I think that’s great, man.”_ Later, Zhenya received a text: _Let me know if you want to talk - Sid._ It made his palms sweat. He didn’t know why he had been hoping for more.

That had been that. It wasn’t mentioned again, and maybe in hindsight that had been odd from a guy like Sid who always insisted on knowing what was going on in everyone else’s life.

Zhenya had caught Sid during the Cup party that season in the kitchen. Sid had been dumping a bag of fresh ice into the coolers. Zhenya leaned against the counter and watched him until he was finished and mirrored Zhenya’s position on the other side of the sink. They stared out at the throng of people celebrating. Zhenya could make out his boyfriend talking to Cully.

“You know,” Sid said quietly. “I like them too. Guys.”

Zhenya’s pulse had spiked erratically and for a moment he thought about kissing Sid. For a moment he was sure he would before he had been overwhelmed with guilt.

They didn’t speak about it again. If Sid did date men, he had never done so publicly.

What he was doing now with Zhenya felt very public. Sid was most dangerous when the cards were stacked against him and he felt like he had something to prove. Zhenya had been exposed to more of Sid’s dick in the locker room these past few months than he had in years.

He wondered for the briefest of moments if this was as close as anyone would ever get to being sexually harassed by Sidney Crosby.

Zhenya liked it. He liked it so much he kind of didn't want it to stop.

Zhenya grumbled as he adjusted the ice. One of his butt cheeks was going numb. “You need a keeper.”

Sid dove through that opening as if he’d been waiting for Zhenya to give him the O.K. all season. Which he had. “Are you volunteering?”

Zhenya’s head shot up. Sid’s eyes were intent, filled with the kind of radiant hope Zhenya couldn’t put words to. They held a question.

Zhenya’s throat was dry again. “Do you want me to?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” Sid reached down and touched his hand.

The words strung between them like a trip wire. There was a prolonged moment of silence where Zhenya wavered on that edge, too nervous about saying the wrong thing and spoiling it before it had really begun. He had lied before; he did want Sid’s flirting to end, but only if it meant he got something more. 

"Hey," Sid whispered, deliberately lacing their fingers together. "I'm serious here, don't leave me dangling."

“I—” Zhenya dropped his head. “God, Sid. _Yes_.” He tightened his grip on Sid’s hand. Sid’s affection was an earthly comfort he couldn’t imagine denying himself. "I’m want so much you don't even know."

Sid smiled until the little mole at the corner of his eye disappeared into the fat creases at the tops of his cheeks.

Zhenya let the bag of ice slide from Sid’s thigh in favour of wrapping Sid in his arms and folding him into his body. Sid was warm and solid and his arms came up to circle Zhenya’s shoulders, which made Zhenya’s heart feel mushy with tender feeling. He pressed his lips to the shell of Sid’s ear and breathed in the comforting scent of his body. “Yes, I volunteer, and for whatever else you want.”

“Date me?” Sid whispered, almost too softly for Zhenya to hear.

Zhenya lifted his head and met Sid’s eyes, letting him see everything he was feeling. “I want to, but Sid, privacy.”

“I know.” Sid smiled at Zhenya, affection and love and everything Zhenya had never known he needed. Sid ran a hand along Zhenya’s cheek. “We can talk about it later.”

Zhenya wasn’t exactly sold. “Sid, it’s okay if you’re not sure, you can take some time.”

“I already did. I don’t want to waste any more.” Sid looked the most serious he had that night.

“I want to kiss you so much right now,” Zhenya whispered.

"Cool," Sid breathed.

Sid’s mouth was warm and yielding under Zhenya’s, and his nose slotted sweetly into the crease of Zhenya’s cheek.

"Prickly," Zhenya said when he pulled away. It wasn’t a critique or a compliment. Just an observation. Zhenya now knew what Sid's stubble felt like.

Sid rubbed his cheek against Zhenya's. “You like it.”

That was debatable. It just meant he had to try again. Zhenya pushed his fingers into the rucked-up hem of Sid’s briefs, curious how far Sid might let him go, and pressed them to the tender crease of Sid’s groin.

With his other hand, Zhenya sank his fingers into that soft nest of hair in a proprietary hold and drew Sid’s mouth back to his. This time he opened up under Zhenya right away, taking Zhenya’s bottom lip into his hot, hot mouth. 

Zhenya pushed his hand deeper inside Sid’s briefs until he was confronted with the smooth, hairless skin of Sid’s dick. The fact that Sid was ungroomed everywhere but his balls made Zhenya want to do terrible, terrible things.

Sid squirmed in his arms. His mouth was wet and red when they parted again. He looked at Zhenya from below his eyelashes. “I think you should kiss it better.”

Zhenya should know better than to play chicken with Sid. He was never going to let Zhenya win at anything as long as they lived. Zhenya eagerly anticipated it.

“Oh you do? I can't believe I forget.” Zhenya extracted his hand and placed a chaste kiss to the crest of Sid’s thigh. “There.”

The look on Sid’s face said that wasn’t what he’d meant at all but he was too happy to keep from looking all gooey eyed about it.

Between them, the bag of ice sat damp and partially melted. Zhenya deposited it in the tub and went back to stand beside the bed.

“You going to be okay now?”

Sid tucked his hand behind the pillow. “I’d be better if you stayed.”

It was an easy decision to make. 


End file.
